


Omnipresence

by sun_and_solace



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: D/s, Death Knight, Dominance, F/M, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Pet name mention, Power Imbalance, Stepping On, Submission, mild choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25998181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sun_and_solace/pseuds/sun_and_solace
Summary: "Such a good pet," he whispers, and then ducks into a kneel with his foot still on your chest.It hurts. He knows. He doesn't care.You, a Death Knight, have a little fantasy regarding The Lich King.
Relationships: The Lich King (Warcraft)/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Omnipresence

**Author's Note:**

> Talking with a friend finally got me in the right headspace to write that (albeit short) Lich King/Reader I've been wanting to write.  
> Enjoy.

There was something incredibly arousing about how you could hear him in your head, constantly, praising you for the good work you do for him; and you do, of course, you'd never let him down. That deep husky growl whispering, consuming every inch of your mind, consuming every thought. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't break free. The knowledge that you're trapped is utterly divine.

Such praise sent you utterly wild in the world of the living. It does the same in the one after. You can practically imagine those cold hands on your scalp, stroking, shifting lower to wrap around your throat and give a squeeze. It's not like you need to breathe - you're not of the living - but the sensation is exquisite, and still your breath catches in your throat.

His hands are so cold, colder than you even. Like ice. He plants his foot square in the centre of your chest and pushes you down to the ground.

"Such a good pet," he whispers, and then ducks into a kneel with his foot still on your chest.

It hurts. He knows. He doesn't care.

His hands slip to where your shirt meets your lower garb, slipping beneath the clothes and straight over your mound, sitting there for a moment before those icy fingers run a line up your wetness and begin to roll against your clit.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

His voice is so beautiful and gravelly, so deep. You gaze up at him, reverence evident in your eyes, and you let out a moan, arching your back as much as you can into his touch.

You nod your head, and his fingers dive downwards, middle finger easing into you to press up against your walls, followed soon after by his index finger, thumb still pressing against your clit.

You notice his other hand is fidgeting with the front of his pants, and you let out a guttural moan when you see his erection bounce free, his hand stroking over it as he continues to work you.

"Please," you breath out, and you meet his eyes for a brief moment, ice blue and glowing, and then gaze back down to his length.

He understands.

He shifts his foot off you finally, allowing you to fully arch your back, and you do. He moves, getting onto his knees behind your face and pressing his length to your lips until you open to let him in, sucking, licking, so hungrily, savoring how he presses against and into your throat, how you feel your organs shift and pop to accommodate his length.

He lets out a shuddering growl above you, and you let out an obscene moan.

_ In reality your fingers are in your pants, rolling furiously against your clit as you imagine his cock sliding into your throat. _

You lean back to take more and more and more of him in with each thrust, until his balls sit upon your nose and your lips are pressed up against his pelvis, there is nothing quite like it. You can't moan, so instead you arch your back further and further and further, bringing your palms to his hips and pulling him in towards you. He is so cold against you skin, despite the both of you not being of the living. It feels exquisite.

As if it weren't enough, in his hunger he siezes control of you, your body impaling itself upon his cock over and over, tongue rolling over him hungrily at his whim. Somehow it's even more arousing than if you did it yourself.

He pulls out, his fingers too, and moves, slowly, taking calculated steps until he is by your legs, placing a knee between them to spread them apart and settle between them. And then he tears away the final barrier to his prize, tucking his hands beneath your hips and pulling you up upon his thighs so that his length sits poised above your entrance.

You can feel him pressing the tip of it against you, icy cold against your warmth, and then without warning he sheathes into you. A single slow thrust, then a second, bringing his pelvis flush with yours. And then he shifts, pinning you to the ground by your shoulders and railing into you, whispering praises you can barely make out over your obscene moans.

_ Your fingers are pumping furiously into yourself, and you're no longer holding back your moans. _

And then you finally cum.

**

As you come down from your high your eyes blink open. How could you ever have fought against becoming one of them. So fearful and panicked and afraid of his sword.. the sword that was so blissful when it pierced into your chest, cutting deeper and deeper and deeper right at the base of your sternum. The sensation had been exquisite, the fear had been exquisite. Feeling your humanity ebb away, slowly... Slowly .. and how he looked down upon you, brows furrowed with anger and disgust and hatred, until you turned, and then he knelt and offered you a hand... And told you you'd be good for him, he knew you would. And you knew you would.

" _ Very good _ ," you hear his voice echoing in the back of your head, referring to your little fantasy. "Yes, you're very good."

And he beckons to you, you can feel it, like a string pulling you towards him, always wrapped around you.

"Come," he whispers.

And your insides quiver as you let yourself be drawn to him.

  
  



End file.
